


Many, Many Crazy Things (Keep Me Loving You)

by hsparker



Series: They Can't Take You Away From Me [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: 1920s, 1930s, 1940s, 30s music, A LOT of Angst, Alcohol, Alcoholism, Angst, Artist Steve, Artist Steve Rogers, Awkward Steve, Bisexual Bucky Barnes, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Boys Kissing, Breakup, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes's Hair, Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm, Bucky Barnes's Trigger Words, Bullying, Canonical Character Death, Coming Out, Crying Bucky Barnes, Crying Steve Rogers, Cuddling, Dancing, Dreams and Nightmares, Drunk Bucky Barnes, Drunk Steve Rogers, First Kiss, First Meetings, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Height Differences, Hurt Bucky Barnes, Hurt Steve Rogers, Hurt/Comfort, If You Squint - Freeform, Implied Relationships, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Smut, Insecure Steve, Internalized Homophobia, Kinda, M/M, Minor Character Death, Moving Out, Nightmares, Non-Canon Relationship, Non-Graphic Violence, POWs, Period-Typical Homophobia, Period-Typical Sexism, PoW, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Prisoner of War, Promiscuity, Protective Bucky, Protective Steve, Sad Ending, Sad and Happy, Secret Relationship, Skinny Steve, Suicidal Thoughts, Torture, Weddings, Whiskey & Scotch, a lot of crying bucky actually, and cuddling, bear with me, canon ending, mostly - Freeform, moving in, non-canon characters - Freeform, rated for Bucky's language, sorry bucky, sorta - Freeform, too many tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-29
Updated: 2017-08-12
Packaged: 2018-08-18 13:47:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 12,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8164055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hsparker/pseuds/hsparker
Summary: I have a theory that the trigger words in Russian used for transforming Bucky into the Winter Soldier are a sequence of references to emotional or important memories to Bucky. (i.e: грузовой вагои means freight car, referencing the last time Bucky saw Steve, when he fell from the freight car on Zola's train.) This is a series about that theory and his memories, that all include Steve because I am Stucky trash. They start out in elementary school and the series ends after Bucky's fall.This is my first AO3 work. Let's hope it doesn't suck.This fic was previously known as Bucky Barnes's Trigger Words. New title comes from "They Can't Take That Away From Me" by Fred Astaire.





	1. Longing

**Author's Note:**

> Bucky was only 11, but always felt empty to some degree, wishing he had more (or maybe just better) friends. He was tired of girls, too. They smiled too much and said weird things, like if he had a girlfriend. Bucky didn't want a girlfriend.  
> Bucky sees Steve Rogers around school, though, although the scrawny boy tends to keep himself hidden. Bucky officially meets Steve one day, and his longing stops.
> 
> -Chapters will get longer, I promise.-

James Buchanan Barnes was a eleven-year-old boy who went by "Bucky". He was well known in his elementary school. His mother and other adults teased him for being so young and, "Already a ladies man," but Bucky was, in fact, a child, and didn't feel like the girls he apparently got to swoon over him were anything more than fellow crazy children. He longed for something, some kind of friendship, and it wasn't with those girls. They smiled too much and asked weird things, like if he had a girlfriend. Bucky didn't want a girlfriend.

He always saw Steve Rogers around school. Although Steve tended to keep himself hidden, it seemed Bucky could always spot him anyway.  
Steve was a short, thin boy with blonde hair and blue-green eyes. Bucky was average in weight and had curly brown hair and icy blue eyes. Bucky was taller for his age, being eleven years old and four feet and eleven inches, while Steve was four-foot-five at ten years old. But this was all he knew about Steve. He never saw Steve with other students, so he assumed he had no friends. He was almost desperate for attention, but too quiet for anyone to notice. Bucky would sometimes catch Steve studying him in class, or if he saw him in town, and there were times Steve caught Bucky staring at him. Once, their teacher had caught him, and smacked Bucky in the back of the head.

Usually when Bucky would walk home, he would take the straightest road he could take to get home faster. On Wednesday, September 26th, 1928, Bucky took a different road. He wanted to walk more through town on his way home, so he took a street with a nice diner and a few Mom-and-Pop shops. He stopped by an alley to retie his shoe laces that had come undone. As he stood back up afterwards, he heard a shaky, high-pitched voice.

"Leave me alone!"

Bucky turned around and looked into the alleyway, finding Steve Rogers and two much bigger students looking down to him.

"Just give me your money, and we won't hurt you," the one on the left said.

Steve bravely stuttered an objection, before being punched in the face by the boy on his right. He fell to the ground, hard.

"Hey!" Bucky said, rushing forward and pulling one boy back. Bucky pushed him out of the alley and yelled, "Pick on somebody your own size!"

He dodged a punch from the boy that had hit Steve, turned him around by his arm, and kicked him in the rear. They started to walk towards Bucky again, but he glared a warning to them. They left the alley and started down the street, mumbling.

"Of course," Bucky said under his breath, "all bark, no bite." Bucky turned around and pulled Steve off the ground, holding a hand on his back to keep him up. He noticed a rusty red bike thrown on the ground and picked it up, straightening it for Steve.

"I had 'em on the ropes," Steve wheezed. "I coulda handled 'em."

"Sure you could," Bucky said, slowly walking him out of the alley.

"I'm Steve Rogers, by the way," he said. "You're James, right?" Steve wiped his hands on his pants and grabbed the bike handles, walking and rolling the bike.

"James Buchanan Barnes. Call me Bucky."


	2. Rusted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky's dad talks him into fixing his motorcycle for him, then gives him the motorcycle on his 16th birthday. Bucky had Steve help him pick a paint job. Steve suggests a rusty orange-red color.  
> "So it's like an upgraded version of my bike," Steve said.  
> (Because you're an upgraded version of me.)

_Thursday, March 10th, 1932_

 

Bucky had been working on his father's motorcycle for a few months, and finally finished restoring it almost a week before his sixteenth birthday. Then his birthday came, and they went out to dinner.

Bucky's mother and father made reservations so they, Bucky, his sisters Rebecca and Mary, his brother Robert, and his best friend Steve could celebrate Bucky's birthday. Near the end of their meals, Bucky's father, George, said he had an announcement for Bucky's birthday.

"I've had James restoring my motorcycle for the past few months, as we get into riding season," George said, "but he's put a lot of hard work into it, and I don't think it would be fair to keep it to myself," he looked to Bucky. "We're going to take it to your uncle's shop tomorrow, after school, and he'll give it whatever paint job you like."

Steve heard Bucky's brother, Robert, scoff. Bucky ignored it, his mouth falling open, "You're giving me your bike?"

George nodded, "You deserve it. You've excelled in school and athletics this year."

Steve grinned at Bucky, and Bucky said, "Thank you. Can we take Steve with us?" He knew how much his friend liked bikes, motorcycles in particular.

"Of course, if you keep him out of trouble," George winked at Steve. Yeah, maybe he'd been in a few extra fights that year.

 

 

_Friday, March 11th, 1932_

 

Bucky, Steve, and George got to George's brother's house at 5 p.m. George and his brother chatted while Bucky and Steve went in the garage to look at the different colors Bucky was to pick from.

"I'm so glad he's lettin' me do this," Bucky said. "I hate the white on that bike. What color should I get, Stevie?"

Steve shrugged, "Blue?"

Bucky's mouth went sideways, "I dunno. Blue is better on you than me."

Steve thought of his bicycle and the first day they met, "What about that?" he said, pointing to a rusty red color. "It'd be like a better version of my bike."

 _Because you're a better version of me,_ he didn't say.

Bucky ponders it a moment.

"Yeah. Yeah, like an upgrade," he grinned, "even if it looks rusted." He elbowed Steve playfully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, chapters will get longer. probably starting in chapter four.


	3. Seventeen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky is seventeen, almost eighteen, when he tells Steve he's bisexual, and it goes better than he thought it would.  
> (The grammar in this is one odd, but hey, I was tired.)

_February 10th, 1935_

 

Bucky wasn't nervous.

He knew how people felt about people like him, once they found out. He knew the hatred and anger he would receive, but he hoped Steve wasn't like that. He hoped he made the right decision, inviting Steve over. Bucky had only recently figured it out himself, and he didn't want to talk about it, but he needed to. He needed to get it out so it wouldn't eat him up. No, Bucky wasn't nervous. He was terrified.

He paced in his bedroom, telling himself not to cry. He told himself Steve wasn't like the rest of the town, that he would accept him. Even if he liked men. He heard a knock on the door and a soft voice.

"Bucky?" Steve called. "I'm here. Becca let me in."

Bucky collected himself and tried to stop shaking. He opened the door and let Steve in, closing it again. Just being in Steve's presence calmed him down, remembering why he chose Steve as the first, and maybe the only, to tell.

"Whatcha been doing, Buck?" Steve said casually, picking up a few of Bucky's new baseball cards. He thumbed through them absent-mindedly. "I haven't seen you all weekend."

"Oh, I've been helping Ma take care of Mary," Bucky replied. He hadn't needed to help with Mary, but he _had_ needed time away from Steve, to figure out what he was going to say.

They sat on the bed and small-talked for a while, catching up over the past couple days. Even in school, they didn't see each other much. Bucky kept the conversation going, away from his confession for as long as possible.

"So why'd you invite me over?" Steve questioned. "Usually we go to my house or somethin'."

Bucky sighed. "I didn't want to have to leave. I wanted you to end the conversation when you want to, after I tell you."

Steve popped an eyebrow with concern, "Tell me what, Buck? Are you okay?"

Bucky started shaking again.

"Well...we've been friends for years now. And uh, I know how people are, but I'm hoping you're different. Would it change our friendship if..." Bucky cleared his throat. "If I told you... I think I like men?"

Steve's face changed. Bucky didn't see how. He just saw it change from the corner of his eye, and once again he had to tell himself not to cry.

"Like, I like women too. I'm bisexual I guess," he added.

"Why are you telling me this?" Steve asked.

Bucky's heart quickened, "I needed to tell _someone_ ," he said, "and you're the only one I know I can trust."

Steve nodded. "This... this isn't a joke?"

"What?" Bucky paused, looking up at Steve. "Why would I joke about this?"

Steve blushed and fidgeted. "Promise me you're not lying."

Bucky sunk into the bed, fear rising. He knew it. Steve wouldn't want to associate with him after this. He knew Steve was wishing this was a joke, but Bucky couldn't lie to him.

"I promise," he whispered.

Steve sighed, then smiled. Bucky looked up, confused and hurt. Was Steve already planning on telling everyone?

"Buck, me too."

"What?" Bucky asked, cautiously. He thought Steve was tricking him.

"I'm bisexual, too. I was scared to tell you," Steve looked at his hands, then back up to Bucky. "It's okay."

Bucky stuttered, "No, S-Steve, it's not. You know h-how people are. If anyone else knew-" he sucked in a sharp breath, looking away.

 _Don't cry. Don't cry,_ he thought.

This time it didn't work. Tears started falling and he felt heat in his nose and lips. He was full-body crying in seconds, shaking and gasping. Steve pulled Bucky over, into the smaller boy's hold. Bucky laid in Steve's arms for as long as he needed that day, scared and crying. He wasn't scared of Steve telling anyone, but of someone catching on and realizing how he felt about Steve.

_If Steve ever knew, even if he's not lying, he would run from me._

Bucky didn't care if he lost the world. He just needed Steve.


	4. Daybreak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve finds out that his mother has tuberculosis. He spends the night with Bucky and they watch the sunrise.

_July 16th, 1936_

 

Bucky Barnes was sitting in the kitchen in his apartment, reading the day's newspaper, though it was getting dark out and soon the content of the paper would no longer be news.

  
It was cool in the apartment and hot outside, for it was early July - just past Steve's birthday. He was trying to forget the last few days, since he and Steve had been arguing. Bucky recently began sexual experimentation, and since then, Steve had stopped talking to him altogether. Bucky wasn't oblivious, though. He knew why Steve was acting the way he was, and he knew he felt the same way Steve did.

But he was also disgusted with himself. He knew how he felt about his friend. Even though he only figured out the extent of it that week, he knew for years he loved Steve. He felt awful for what he had been doing.

For the past few months, he was sleeping with guys and girls, trying to figure out what he liked and who he liked it from. That wasn't what he was angry about, though. He was angry at himself for not realizing that what he was trying to find - whether romantically or sexually - was Steve, and now Steve had pushed him away.

A soft knock on the front door shook Bucky from his thoughts. He wasn't expecting anyone, so he walked to the door slowly, peering through the small window with caution. He opened the door to Steve, who was sweating and heaving from his walk. Bucky pulled him inside, under the light of his living room.

It was cool in his apartment, but he hoped Steve wouldn't have an asthma attack from the outside heat before he could sputter out why he was there. Steve didn't explain, though. His eyes were red and his lips were swollen. Even the heated blush from his walk couldn't hide the red around his nose and lips that said he had been crying.

"Stevie?" Bucky said quietly, reaching for his arm. He squeezed Steve's hand and drew back when he flinched. He reached again, gently, and pulled Steve's hand up to look at. His knuckles were bloody and bruised. Bucky knew he hadn't gotten into a fight, because he would have had bruises on his face, too.

"Steve, you're scaring me."

Steve spoke suddenly, "I came to apologize. I've been childish." Bucky paused, not knowing what to say. Steve continued, "Things are odd between us and I don't like it. I need you right now, so I don't want us to be doing... whatever we're doing."

"Why do you need me, Steve?" Bucky asked, concerned.

Steve sighed shakily, "My ma's got tuberculosis, Buck," he bit his lip to stop it from trembling. "She got hit hard. Probably live only a few months."

Bucky couldn't believe it, "I thought the ward was safe."

"So did she," Steve scoffed.

Bucky motioned to the kitchen and followed Steve. He walked to the counter and began pouring tea.

"When did you find out?" Bucky asked.

"This morning," Steve answered. "She's staying at my aunt's for the night. I didn't want to be alone."

"Why didn't you go with her?" Bucky asked, sitting the cups on the table.

Steve grabbed his cup and took a drink. "Okay. I wanted an excuse."

_An excuse to see you,_ he meant, but Bucky knew that.

"You don't need any damn excuse, Steve," Bucky shook his head. "I don't care what we're fighting about or how we're acting. if you need something, I'm here."

It was Steve's turn to be silent. All he could manage was a thank you.

They small talked for the remainder of the night, until daybreak. They watched as the sun peaked over the horizon, and they decided ignoring each other certainly wasn't worth missing nights like this.


	5. Furnace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It doesn't take Steve long to accept Bucky's offer of moving in. He moves in early November, the night the first snow happens. They try to stay warm on the floor in front of Bucky's furnace while watching it start to snow. Steve falls asleep, and sleeps well for the first time in a month.

_November 9, 1936_

Steve hadn't been sleeping much, and when he was sleeping, he would have nightmares or wake up with neck and back pains. He needed out of the house, and decided to leave for a while and take Bucky up on the offer to stay with him. Bucky helped Steve pack his things and take them to the apartment. Steve left his boxes in front of the door on the inside, slightly to the left and into the kitchen. Steve shivered from the chill outside, scanning the living room, finding the furnace Bucky has installed under a closed window that peered out onto the street.  
Bucky went back into his bedroom and grabbed blankets and pillows, bringing them back out and throwing them at Steve. Bucky pulled the cushions from the couch and love seat, sitting them out on the floor and making nearly a queen size bed a few feet from the furnace. He took a soft, thin blanket from Steve and lay it over the cushions like a sheet. Steve placed the four pillows Bucky brought out on the makeshift bed, placing two on each side. Bucky put the heavy comforter on, then.  
"Really, Buck? Will we need four?"  
Bucky raised an eyebrow, "I get two, you get two, right? Like when we were kids."  
"Are you sure, Bucky?" Steve said, chewing his lip. "I'm sure your bed would be more comfy for you."  
"Sure it would," he replied, pulling the blanket flat, and Steve almost regretted what he said, "but I'm not leaving you out here alone, and it's chilly in there, so I usually sleep on the couch anyway. This is no different."  
Bucky toed off his shoes and pulled off his jeans before slipping under the blanket, and Steve followed on the other side. Bucky scooted to be close to Steve, snaking an arm over Steve's thin hip.  
 _He's just doing it for body warmth,_ Steve thought, until Bucky pulled him unnecessarily closer. Steve stayed facing the furnace and looked up, seeing snowflakes fall for the first time that winter. He elbowed Bucky to make him look, and Bucky just grinned, resting his face in Steve's neck. Steve prayed they would never move, that it would last like that forever.  
Steve slept soundly, for the first time in almost a month, while in Bucky's arms.


	6. Nine (Part 1/4)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 1 & 2 of the Bucky's Nine memories. Christmas time, 1936, and Steve meeting "Dot".  
> I was inspired by Summer Song by Fall Out Boy and White Blank Page by Mumford & Sons for this chapter. I recommend listening :)

_First Kiss_  
  
_Christmas time, 1936  
_

 

It was one week before Christmas when Bucky finally put his tree up. He and Steve had started decorating the tree, along with inside of the house, that same day. When Steve stopped for a break, he made hot chocolate and sat down in his living room recliner with a book, watching the snow fall through the nearest window."  
  
Steve only read a few chapters before he heard movement on the roof, but he suspected it was an animal. He didn't expect to hear a yell and see Bucky fall off the roof with a roll of Christmas lights in his hand.  
  
Steve leaped up, sitting his hot chocolate on the coffee table and his book in the chair. He slipped on his jacket and shoes, running out the front door and around the house to Bucky.  
  
"Bucky?" he called as he approached, "What the hell are you doing?"  
  
Bucky sat up, scrunching his face in pain and pulling the roll of lights out from under him. "Well, I was trying to put our lights up," he replied, looking sadly at the broken bulbs in his hand. "At least I got some of them on the roof."  
  
Steve looked up at the roof, finding a single row of lights wrapping around the edge, "Why didn't you ask me to help, Buck?" he questioned, pulling Bucky to his feet.  
  
Bucky shook his head, "S'too cold out here for you. You don't need to be havin' an asthma attack." He pointed to the door. "Let's go in."

  
\--------

  
Bucky never did go back out to finish decorating the roof. Two days before Christmas, they bundled up in coats, snow pants, gloves, scarves, hats, and boots, going outside to the snow. It was the first day the snow was hard enough for snowballs.  
  
Bucky made a snow fort in no time, and Steve took to hiding behind the shed. An hour later, Steve looked around his corner to find Bucky's area empty. Steve turned back around in time to be tackled to the ground by Bucky, who straddled him and threw a snowball right in Steve's face, grinning.  
  
"I win."  
  
Steve spit snow out and laughed, sitting up to be face-to-face with Bucky. Bucky chuckled at Steve's cold, pink face before glancing down to his lips. He leaned in and Steve panicked.  
  
"Are you hungry?"  
  
Bucky's face went emotionless and Steve regretted what he said immediately.  
  
"Yeah, I could eat," Bucky said, getting off of Steve and pulling him to his feet.

  
\--------

  
On Christmas Eve, Bucky and Steve had finally almost finished decorating their tree. Before, Steve's parents had always decorated. Even after his father died, his mother seemed to decorate the entire tree overnight while Steve was sleeping, making it more magical when we was a child.  
  
But Steve was older, and he liked decorating Bucky's tree, even though he was bad at it. Eventually, Bucky decided they were done, save for the star on top. Steve ran like a child across the living room for the star and back, excited to finish the tree.  
  
He reached up, but his arms didn't extend enough to the top of the tree. Bucky laughed at him and Steve's face fell, until Bucky wrapped his arms around Steve's waist and lifted him to the top of the tree. Steve frantically wrapped his legs around Bucky in a panic for balance, before grinning and sitting the star on top. He looked down, but Bucky didn't let go. He pulled Steve closer, his heart racing. He never thought he would kiss Steve. He thought it would be terrifying, and it was, but it felt right.  
  
And how could something be wrong if it feels right? So he leaned in, pulling Steve to him and kissing his lips gently. He sighed into the kiss in relief when Steve began to kiss him back.  
  
Yes, it was terrifying. Yes, it felt right.  
 

  
_First (Big) Fight_  
  
_September 3rd, 1937_

 

Steve was still living with Bucky almost a year later, and they had only talked about the kiss once. Steve had hoped the kiss would have changed something, but they hadn't so much as hugged since.  
  
One night, Steve came home from a class at Auburndale Art School, finding Bucky sleeping soundly in his recliner with the day's newspaper in his hand. Steve visited the kitchen for a sandwich and sat on the couch to eat it, pulling out his sketchbook almost instinctively. He looked over at Bucky every other moment, studying Bucky's face as he sketched him.  
  
Eventually he had the face shape done, and he began filling in the details he knew by heart, like Bucky's pouty lips and his five o'clock shadow. Steve looked up when he was almost done, seeing Bucky begin to stir. He looked at Steve, his eyes fluttering sleepily.  
  
"Whatcha drawin', Stevie?"  
  


Steve shut his sketchbook. "Oh, nothing. Something for a project," he lied. "You gettin' some rest for tonight?"  
  
Bucky nodded and stretched. They had planned to go to a carnival with Bucky's friend, Dot, and her friend, Helen. Steve and Bucky small talked about Steve's classes and Bucky's job. Eventually, they moved to the bathroom to start getting ready for the night.  
  
Unlike Steve, Bucky could fully see himself in the bathroom mirror. Steve had to stand on his tip-toes. Instead of taking turns, the decided to attempt to take up the same amount of space, knocking elbows and hips every now and then. Bucky smoothed his curly hair while Steve brushed his teeth. They left on Bucky's motorcycle at seven o'clock to pick up Dot and Helen.  
  
Helen answered the door when Steve and Bucky arrived. She called back into the apartment for Dot, calling her "Dottie". Dot came into view quickly, her red-blonde hair curling around her shoulders. She stepped out and Bucky took her arm in his. Steve's chest tightened, and he couldn't tell if he was jealous or in actual physical pain. He assumed the first.  
  
Bucky left his motorcycle at Dot's house, and from there the four of them walked to the train station to take them to Long Island, where their favorite carnival was.  
They split up for the first part of the night, riding different rides and playing games. Eventually Steve and Helen met Bucky and Dot at a game booth. Bucky took Steve to the side before their game started.  
  
"So, how's Helen?" He asked.  
  
"Oh, I dunno," Steve replied. "She's nice, but she's kinda loud. I might have a headache before we get home."  
Bucky laughed, "Hey, at least I got someone under your height."  
  
Steve rolled his eyes but chuckled, "You got any money left for the train?"  
  
"A little. You?"  
  
Steve sighed. "Nah, Helen wanted a hot dog so went and got some."  
  
"So did Dot," Bucky scoffed. "I wish I had known how expensive they'd be. I would have brought a little more." He grinned, "Well, c'mon. I'm gonna try to get that big stuffed bear."  
  
Steve followed him back to the booth, where Dot and Helen were chatting. The game at the booth was a shooting range. It had three clowns on the backdrop, with giant teeth that could be knocked out. The goal was to knock out half the teeth in total for a small prize, or all of the teeth for a big prize. It was fifty cents a game, and Bucky was quickly blowing through what he had left.  
  
Each time he missed, Bucky would look at Dot's reaction, then Steve's. He got two small prizes, but in his sixth try, he finally shot out all of the teeth. Dot exclaimed and jumped up and down. Bucky's face fell when he saw that Steve hadn't even been watching. He picked out the bear for Dot and handed it to her, looking at Steve and Helen over Dot's shoulder. Steve stared back at him.  
  
It wasn't long after the game that it started to rain. The four of them ran to shelter, but Bucky had used the last of his money to win the bear. The girls waved down a car and the driver pulled over to them, letting them in. Steve and Bucky started to climb in, as well, but the driver stopped them.  
  
"Just the girls," she said. "I ain't gonna trust boys I don't know."  
  
Dot eyed Bucky, "You gonna be okay?"  
  
"I'll be fine," he smiled, leaning down and kissing her. "I'll just call my dad. Go, get out of the rain."  
  
The car drove off, and Steve and Bucky traveled down the road to a gas station with a payphone. Bucky called his father and explained their situation, and George reluctantly agreed to pick them up and take them back to Dot's house to get the motorcycle.  
  
George arrived an hour later, taking the pair back to Brooklyn. He dropped them off at Dot's after lecturing them about spending their money wisely. Bucky knocked and told the girls goodnight, while Steve waited by the motorcycle. Bucky walked back and got on, strapping on his helmet as Steve got on behind him. He heard Bucky joke about something, but he wasn't listening. He didn't ask him to repeat it, or even pretend he heard. He just held on to Bucky and waited to get home.

  
\--------

 

"What's your problem tonight, Stevie?" Bucky asked once they got into the house.  
 

Steve hesitated. "You make everything about me."  
 

Bucky put his keys down. "What are you talking about?"

  
"With that stuffed bear tonight," Steve said. "If you want to impress me, just be around me. Don't string a sweet girl like Dot along."  
  
  
"What are you talking about?" Bucky repeated. "I like Dot; I was trying to impress her."

  
"Do you even like her? Or are you lying to yourself?"

  
"Why would I be lying to myself?" Bucky asked tiredly.

  
"Last year, you had me move in, and you kissed me. You've been off and on with your feelings for me, and suddenly you're with Dot? What do you even know about her?"

  
Bucky's jaw clenched. "Why do you do this, Steve? Why couldn't you just have a good time tonight with Helen?"

  
"Because she's not you!"

  
"God, Steve, shut up! Someone will hear you."

  
Steve closed his mouth. "So that's what it is. You're afraid of everyone else. You're afraid of what they think."

  
Bucky became silent.

  
"Jesus, this is like a damn roller coaster."

  
"Excuse me?" Bucky said.

  
"Us. We go up and down all the time. We can't be happy for more than a week. I wish it was how it used to be."

  
Bucky took a breath and looked away, "Maybe how it used to be is wrong."

  
"What?" Steve asked.

  
"This. This relationship. It's not accepted. People like us are shunned. No one needs to find out about us. We should stop, before it really starts."

  
Steve frowned, confused, "If no one's going to find out anyway, why should we stop?"

  
"Because I don't want to risk it. What if they aren't accepting down the road? We hide for the rest of our lives? I want to be with you, Steve." Bucky continued before Steve could reply. "But I can't."

  
"What's wrong with hiding, as long as we're together?"

  
"Why would you even want to hide? To go through that pain, when you could just be with a nice girl?" Bucky asked, his voice rising.

  
"Because I don't want to be with a girl, I want to be with you," Steve replied.

  
Bucky sighed, "You're not thinking it through. You've hid your whole life, Steve. But I haven't, and I can't just keep a secret like that forever." He bit his lip. "Maybe you should leave. You can take whatever time you need to pack. I can stay at a friend's or something-"  
  


"Wait," Steve interrupted, taking a step away from Bucky. "Are you kicking me out?"  
 

"No, I just... don't think you should stay. I could leave instead," Bucky offered.  
 

"You're just scared. You don't mean this."  
 

"I do. You're my best friend, but nothing more. One of us needs to leave before it becomes more."  
 

"Right, because best friends kiss each other and sleep together."  
  


"Just stop!" Bucky snapped, making Steve jump. Bucky sighed. "Please, don't make this any harder."  
  


"You think pretending nothing ever happened is going to make it any easier?" Steve inquired, but Bucky didn't respond. Steve's eyes filled with angry tears. "Where did I go wrong, Buck?" Steve shouted. "What's so wrong with loving you?"  
 

Bucky's face fell. He shut his mouth, not knowing what to say.  
  


Steve looked away, "I guess I'll ask my aunt if she has room for me. I'll come back at some point for my stuff." He walked to the front door, putting his shoes and jacket on. He opened the door, but before he left, he turned halfway to Bucky.  
 

"This isn't the end of the line, Buck."  
  


Bucky turned to face him, to apologize and recant, but Steve was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I doubt there was a train that went from Brooklyn to Long Island in the 1930s, but I'm too lazy to research it and I didn't want to change the story of the boys wasting their train money. Sorry not sorry  
> (Also, I live in Indiana, so the only thing I know about trains is that they're loud and bring me corn)


	7. Nine (Part 2/4)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Memories 3 and 4. Resolving the fight and drunk dancing.  
> This one has been my favorite to write, so far. Feedback is always appreciated!  
> I was inspired by the following songs for this chapter:  
> Jet Pack Blues by Fall Out Boy  
> Novocaine by Fall Out Boy  
> Say Something by A Great Big World  
> Clarity by Zedd  
> Up by Olly Murs  
> And three more songs, listed at the end because I included specific lyrics from them.

_Home_   
_October 1937_

Steve still hadn't moved back in, nearly a month later. Bucky had started to feel alone. The house was empty of any color with Steve gone; Bucky only saw black and white. It was always too quiet. Bucky's ears rang every now and then, reminding him he was alone.  
  
Bucky was sitting in his living room, doing his best to remember his favorite parts of Steve. If he closed his eyes, all he saw was Steve's blue-green eyes, filled with tears as he left for his aunt's. Sometimes he would dream of Steve and himself just laughing together, Steve's eyes crinkling and his nose scrunching up, looking beautiful as always.  
Bucky knew their relationship was messy, and he predicted it always would be, but he knew one thing about them for sure, and that was when he fell for Steve. He had first realized his love for Steve as a teenager, even if he didn't understand it until his early 20s, but the moment he really fell in love was when they were children. He had protected Steve as a tiny kid against bullies, and as he helped little Steve out of the alleyway, he saw his eyes for the first time. He saw the beautiful sea color in the sunlight, shaded by his soft golden hair. Bucky fell for him then, before they were even friends.  
  
And now, when he finally understands what to say, Steve's gone again. Bucky wasn't going to let him leave for good.  
  
Bucky ran out the door and into the cold October rain, jumping on the old motorcycle Steve had helped him design years before. He sped down the road, barely paying attention to traffic, but he couldn't help himself. He needed Steve home. He rode across Brooklyn in minutes.  
  
Bucky parked in front of Steve's aunt's house. He figured Steve heard the bike, because he was looking out a window on the second floor.  
  
"What are you doing?" Steve called out the window.  
  
Bucky ran onto the lawn, looking up at Steve through the rain, "I miss you." He sniffled, and Steve couldn't tell if it was from the cold rain or if he was crying. "I'm sorry, Steve. Please come down."  
  
Steve hesitated. He said nothing as he closed the window and walked away. Bucky sighed, running his hands over his face and through his hair. He started to turn away to get his bike out of the rain, but Steve reappeared at the door, welcoming Bucky under the awning on the porch. Bucky walked over, suddenly forgetting the speech he had created earlier. Steve's blonde hair looked soft, and his eyes were as blue as ever, but he looked awful. He had bags under his eyes and he seemed irritable. Steve could see now that  
Bucky's sniffling was, in fact, from tears.  
  
"Uh, where's your aunt?" Bucky started.  
  
Steve shifted his weight to his other foot. "She's working late at the school. Won't be home for a while."  
  
Bucky nodded. "I'm so sorry, Steve," he began, and Steve started to talk. Bucky interrupted. "Please. I need to say this."  
  
Steve closed his mouth and listened.  
  
"You were right. I was scared, and I still am scared, but not of them. I'm scared of losing you. I knew if someone found out about us, we would have to stop seeing each other, and I thought just being friends would fix that. I tried to make you leave before they could push us apart. I didn't know it would be like this when you left," Bucky took a breath, tears forming once again in his eyes. "But I don't care what anyone thinks. I think better, I feel better. I am better with you. I understand now. I never thought you could love me the same way, but I know that you do. Whatever we have isn't wrong, I know that because no one else could make me feel this way. Society fucked us up, but this isn't the end of the line. I can't get rid of the taste of your lips and the touch of your fingers. You're addicting, and I need you. Come home, Stevie," he whispered, sucking in air as he cried. "I love you."  
  
Steve didn't say anything. Bucky bit his lip to stop it from trembling, failing.  
  
"Dammit, Steve! Say something."  
  
He blinked, his tears falling, and he started to turn away, thinking Steve's silence rejected him. Steve pulled on Bucky's arm gently, guiding him into the house. He shut the door behind them and pulled the surprised man down to his height, kissing him softly. Bucky kissed back for a short moment before pulling away and wrapping himself around Steve. Steve put his arms around Bucky's neck, holding him as he shook and sobbed.  
  
  
"I love you, Buck," Steve said when Bucky had stopped crying. "It's okay. I'll come home."

 

  
_Dancing_   
_June 16th, 1938_

It was a cool night on a Thursday when Bucky talked Steve into riding the Cyclone at Coney Island. Steve had barely made it off the ride before he threw up. Bucky patted him on the back and handed Steve his inhaler when he was done.  
  
"Maybe it's time to call it a night," Bucky said. Steve nodded.  
  
They rode home on Bucky's red motorcycle. Steve watched the stars pass above them to avoid more motion sickness. His arms were snaked around Bucky's waist, his face resting against Bucky's back.  
  
When they got home, Bucky poured them each a shot of whiskey. When the cups were empty, he refilled them. Steve was drunk after one shot, and didn't drink his second. Bucky drank both and was somewhere between drunk and hammered.  
  
Bucky turned his radio on and he and Steve starting swaying and spinning around, lazily dancing to jazz songs.

 _Goodnight, my love_  
_The tired old moon is descending_  
_Goodnight, my love_  
_My moment with you now is ending_  
_It was so heavenly, holding you close to me_  
_It will be heavenly to hold you again in a dream_  
  
_-_  
  
_You'd be so easy to love_  
_So easy to idolize_  
_All others above_  
_So worth the yearning for_  
_So swell to keep every homefire burning for_  
_We'd be so grand at the game_  
_So carefree together_

The second song eventually faded out and a slower one started to play. Steve turned away from Bucky to sit down, but Bucky pulled on Steve's arm gently. He pulled Steve to him, putting his arms around the blonde's waist as Steve put his hands on Bucky's shoulders. They swayed like that, just looking at each other.

 _The way you wear your hat_  
_The way you sip your tea_  
_The memory of all that_  
_No, no, they can't take that away from me_  
_The way your smile just beams_  
_The way you sing off key_  
_The way you haunt my dreams_  
_No, no, they can't take that away from me_

"I think I'm in love with you," Bucky slurred, interrupting the song.  
  
"I love you too," Steve chuckled.  
  
"No, I mean..." Bucky sighed. "I mean I'm _in love_ with you. You can love plenty of people, but-" he hiccuped, this time interrupting himself. "But you can't fall in love many times. I realized recently the awfulness of dying for someone. I don't think dying for someone is heroic. I think it's too easy."  
  
"You're smashed and rambling, Bucky. Let's just go to bed."  
  
"No," Bucky whined. "Don't ignore what I'm saying just because I'm drunk. It changes my volume and decisions, but not my feelings."  
  
Steve quieted, listening,  
  
"It's easy to die. If you love someone, you would die to save them, but that's easy. It's easy to jump in front of a bullet or knife. What's hard is living. Dealing with what you've seen and done so you can live to be there for someone else. I used to be so sick of living, Stevie," Bucky said. "I used to think dying would be the best way out, and I know you've gone through more than I have, but-"  
  
"Don't say that," Steve said, slowly sobering up. "Pain is pain, no matter what causes it."

Bucky nodded, "But I had wanted to die. For so long. I never tried anything major, but sometimes I'd do bad things. I'd shower or bathe with the water too hot, or not look before crossing the street. I didn't care if I died or got hurt." Bucky started to cry. "But now I want to live, to be there for you, even though living is hard. I want to live for you. And you live for the one you're in love with."  
  
Steve didn't know what to say. He turned the radio off and helped Bucky to their room instead of replying. Bucky had stopped crying, though tears were still falling. Steve climbed into the bed with him, pulling him into his arms.  
  
Bucky's last thought was a wonder of how someone so much smaller than him could make him feel so safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The songs in order are Goodnight My Love by Ella Fitzgerald, Easy to Love by Billie Holiday, and They Can't Take That Away From Me by Fred Astaire.  
> Also, side note - WHY the hell do I make Bucky cry so much?? I hate when he's sad but I keep making him emotional. Oops


	8. A/N

Hey guys! I just need a quick opinion from you. How would you feel about smut in this story? There will certainly be implied smut, but are you wanting  _smut_ _ty_ smut as well?

For example: Steve and Bucky's first time is coming up very soon (like, next chapter soon) and I don't know whether to write it out, or start it and just imply the rest. Thoughts?

Thanks for reading!

-H

 

EDIT: I have a solution!

I already wrote smut for the next chapter and I'm relatively proud of it, but I know a few of you would prefer to leave it implied. So, where there's smut, I'll just imply it, and put the actually smut in a different work. That way, if someone wants to read with those scenes included, they can click a link and go to a work with the explicit version of that chapter, and anyone who doesn't want to read it won't have to skip the chapter. It will also be set up so you don't have to read the story to read the smut.

Did that make any sense? I hope so.

I'll put a link to the explicit version at the end of each chapter that I write smut for. There's only going to be two or three in this story, though, it's not like it'll be in every other chapter or anything.

Well. Now that that's over. I'll post the next chapter and make the explicit one today, and the fourth (and last) part of Nine should be up tomorrow or on Halloween!

Thanks for the feedback!

-H


	9. Nine (3/4)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Memories 5 and 6, The Adventures of Grocery Shopping + Steve's 22nd birthday. Bucky always seems to make things better, somehow.

_Walks_   
_January 23rd, 1939_

Steve and Bucky had decided to start going on walks instead of riding. They were enthusiastic at first, but they chose a particularly cold time of year to start, and Steve's lungs and legs were struggling to keep up with Bucky's.

"C'mon, Buck," Steve whined. "S'too cold for me to walk that fast. Think of my tiny legs. I'd have to jog to be at your pace."

Bucky chuckled, "Maybe it wouldn't be as bad if you stopped complainin'. Maybe we can buy some roller skates and next time you can just hold on to my sleeve."

Steve rolled his eyes, though he wondered if it would work or not.

They arrived at the market and sighed in relief at the heat inside. Steve walked around with a basket, collecting snacks while Bucky searched for meal items. Bucky came around one corner to find Steve on his tip-toes, reaching as high as he could toward his favorite cereal, still struggling to grab it.

"Hey, Bucky," he strained. "Do you think you can-"

Steve didn't get to finish before the entire top shelf crashed on top of him, pushing him to the floor. Steve, now buried in dozens of cereal boxes, mumbled from the ground to Bucky, who was trying not to laugh.

"Never mind, I got it," he said, muffled by the cereal.

Bucky shook his head and pulled Steve up from under the boxes. They began quickly putting the boxes back, Steve standing on an upside-down basket and Bucky frantically handing boxes to him to put away. The manager popped around the corner just in time to see Steve putting the last boxes back.

"Oh shit," Bucky muttered.

"Hey!" The manager shouted. "Who taught you how to stock shelves?"

Steve stuttered, nearly falling off of the basket, "Uh, my mom?"

"Well, you can thank her, because that shelf looks the best it's looked since I came to this store. You want a job, son?"

"He sure does!" Bucky snickered, patting Steve on the back before he had time to explain that he was the one who had also knocked down the shelf.

"Great! What's your name?"

"Uh," Steve said intelligently, "Steve. Steve Rogers."

"When can you start, Steve?"

Steve didn't know what to say. He was still going to school, and needed the money, but he was more worried about how they were going to walk home with their groceries.  
After talking to the manager a for a few long minutes, they paid for their groceries and left. Bucky bumped Steve with his elbow as they got on to the sidewalk.

"You totally froze up in there, punk. Good thing ya got me."

Steve grinned, "Whatever. Thanks, jerk."

 

_Birthday_   
_July 4th, 1940_

Steve's twenty-second birthday was just another day. It was a Thursday, and he had finally gotten home after a shift at the market he had worked at for over a year then. Bucky was playing music on their record player. Steve walked to the kitchen for a glass of water. He had heard the shower running when he first arrived, but after he got his drink, the water shut off.

Bucky walked out of the bathroom minutes later in pajama bottoms. He found Steve in the lounge, sat on the couch. Bucky leaned over from behind and pecked Steve's cheek.

"Hey, punk. I missed you."

"Hey, Buck," Steve sighed. "Look, I know you probably planned somethin' for tonight, but I had a day filled with dumb customers and demands from a grumpy manager so I'm not really up for much."

"I didn't really plan anythin'," Bucky lied.

"So there's not an entire party of people waiting in the bedroom for a surprise party like last year?"

Bucky walked to the record player, "Nah, today I just wanted to show you how much I love you." Steve almost blushed, but when he looked at Bucky, he felt more like running. Bucky was holding Steve's sketch diary open to show a drawing of him and Bucky - a rather suggestive, half-naked drawing.

"Oh, by the way," Bucky grinned, "I found this."

"I can't believe you went through my sketches," Steve said, standing up.

"Oh, no, actually I was cleanin' and if fell. Lucky for me, it fell open to this specific page. I wonder how many in here are like it?"

Steve didn't know if he believed Bucky or not, but he didn't want him seeing the rest of the pictures. "Give it back, jerk."

"Make me," Bucky smirked.

Steve ran at him and Bucky ran away, to the dining table and up onto a chair, holding the book out of Steve's reach. He flipped through a few pages, finding exactly what he had hoped for. Steve had multiple drawings of Bucky and him in various positions. Bucky hopped down from the chair, holding the book out to Steve, who grabbed it immediately.

Though once he had it, he didn't know what to do. The damage was done.

"How long have you been doing that, Stevie?" Bucky inquired, backing Steve up to the wall. Steve didn't answer. He could feel Bucky's hard-on through his pants as he pressed against Steve, hanging his head to kiss him. Steve strained up, kissing back. "You know, if you wanted this," Bucky said, pulling away from Steve's lips and holding the hand that held the book, "you could've just asked."

Steve dropped the book, looking up at Bucky with dark eyes, "Then this is me asking."

Bucky scooped Steve up in one motion, pinning him to the wall with his hips and pulling Steve's shirt off. He laced his fingers with Steve's, kissing him passionately but not roughly. He wrapped his arms around Steve's waist eventually, holding him up to carry to the bedroom.

\--------

Steve's heart and lungs were on fire, but the relief made up for it. He was exhausted. Bucky collapsed beside him. They cleaned up quickly, climbing back into bed. Bucky wrapped his arms around Steve tightly.

"Happy birthday, Stevie."

Steve fell asleep, feeling loved and much better.

Maybe his twenty-second wasn't just another day after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The extended/explicit version of Birthday can be found here:  
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/8411917


	10. Nine (4/4)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Memory 7: A surprise visit when Steve is working late, 8: Helen's wedding, and 9: Steve finds out when Bucky is leaving for the war.  
> Inspirations for this chapter:  
> Favorite Record by Fall Out Boy  
> I Will Wait by Mumford & Sons  
> Hallelujah by Jeff Buckley  
> Sugar We're Going Down by Fall Out Boy  
> They Can't Take That Away From Me by Fred Astaire (Again, I know. But it's a good song.)  
> Ghosts That We Knew by Mumford & Sons  
> Summer Song by Fall Out Boy (Again)

_Closing Time_   
_September 1940_

Steve was tired and moody. He had to pull a double shift to close the market up on a Monday night. He flipped their sign to closed and walked back to the counter to count the money for the night. He heard the door open and the bell ring moments after he finished.

"Excuse me, the store is closed," he called.

"Then why didn't you lock up, punk?" Bucky asked, coming around the aisle.

Steve sighed, smiling, "What are you doing here? I told you I'd be home late."

"I know, just figured you needed the company while you close up," Bucky said, leaning over the counter. "This place have cameras?"

"No," Steve said, "But you really want to risk it? Someone could walk by the windows or-"

"Steve, c'mon. You can't see in here with all those 'fall sale' signs out there."

Steve rolled his eyes and leaned over, giving Bucky a quick kiss.

"You're lucky you're cute."

 

_Wedding_   
_January 1941_

Bucky was sitting at the bar at his ex-girlfriend's best friend's wedding, hoping to get as drunk as possible, but he only had a bit of wine before Steve was pulling him out to the dance floor.

"Whatcha doin', Stevie?" He mumbled. "We can't dance here. Not together."

"Says who? The bridesmaids can dance together, and the groomsmen can dance together. No one will blink an eye if we dance," Steve insisted.

"Fine," Bucky said, "but no slow dancing."

\--------

At the end of the night, Steve was right. No one thought twice when they saw Steve and Bucky dancing goofy together. As the night progressed, though, a few embarrassing things happened. Steve accidentally caught the bouquet when Helen threw it, Bucky got so drunk Steve had to hold him up as he hailed a taxi, and right before that a bridesmaid tried to hit on Bucky, resulting in him throwing up on her shoes.

Steve couldn't wait to go home and forget the wedding happened.

\--------

When they finally got home, Steve lay Bucky in their bed and left to get him a cup of water. When he returned, Bucky was upside-down in the bed, staring at the ceiling with a weird little smile on his face.

"You doin' okay, Buck?" Steve asked.

"Mhm," was all Bucky said.

"Look, you should sit up and drink some water. It's a miracle you haven't died of alcohol poisoning."

Bucky sat up and scooted to the top of the bed, drinking half the glass and laying back down normally. He rolled up in the blankets, "Hey Stevie?"

"Yeah, Buck?" Steve answered, turning the light off and climbing into bed.

"We should get married one day. If it's ever accepted 'n stuff. If the world gets better."

"We could be a hundred years old by then, hon."

"I know. S'okay," Bucky mumbled. "For you, I'd wait."

Steve didn't know what to say. He looked up at Bucky to say, "I love you," but Bucky was asleep.

 

_Tables Turned_   
_October 1941_

It was late when Bucky got home from work. He had been in a fight on his way that was started by someone bad-mouthing the U.S. troops. Bucky stepped in and taught him to respect the troops by beating him. Unfortunately, he got hit too.

He unlocked the door and walked into the living room, dropping his bag and making his way over to Steve, who sighed when he saw Bucky's bloody face.

"Care to fix me up, doll?" Bucky asked.

Steve stood up, leading Bucky to the bathroom. "What happened this time?"

Bucky explained the incident to Steve and he cleaned the cuts on his head and lip. Afterwards, he told Steve how training was going, and that he was leaving around December to go to England.

"I should be going with you."

"Stop that," Bucky groaned. "You can do your part here. It's _war_ , not one of your alley fights."

"What am I supposed to do? Work in the factories with the women and kids?"

"Yes! Why not, Steve?" Bucky whined. "What's this really about? DO you think you need to prove yourself?"

Steve bit his lip and lied through it, "No, I know who I am. That's enough."

"You're damn right that's enough," he insisted. "You don't have to explain yourself or prove yourself to anyone, let alone the goddamn world. Fuck the world, Stevie."

Steve looked at his feet, thinking. Bucky was right, but he still felt like he needed to fight. What he didn't know was if he really wanted to fight or if he just didn't want Bucky go leave.

"They can't take you away from me," Steve finally said.

Bucky sighed, understanding. "Don't, Steve. This was my choice."

"What if you die over there? You're all I have."

Bucky didn't have an answer. He just kissed Steve's forehead and led him to their bedroom, shutting off lights as he went. They lie down together, holding each other. Bucky kissed Steve's neck and Steve's hand slid up Bucky's t-shirt. Steve thought his back would break from having such a heavy heart. He silently thanked Bucky for always keeping him up and being so hopeful.

"We're going to be fine, Stevie. I promise."


	11. Benign

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky didn't know how long he was in isolation. He was woken up and tested on and passed back out a few times a day. If it had been months, he'd be surprised. It felt like years. He was shook awake again, and opened his eyes expecting Doctor Zola. Instead he saw a familiar face with a benign smile, and he felt warmth for the first time since he left Brooklyn.
> 
>  
> 
> Lover's Eyes, Hopeless Wanderer, Broken Crown, Reminder, and Below My Feet (all by Mumford & Sons) inspired this chapter.

_November, 1943_

Bucky didn't know how long he was in the isolation ward. He was woken up, tested on, and forced asleep a few times a day. If it had been days, it felt like weeks. If it had been weeks, it felt like months. When he had first gone there, he was brave, spitting things like, "Do your worst," and, "Bite me," but now he was scared. He didn't know what the machine did, he just knew it hurt. It shook his brain, maybe even fried it.

He had started to hallucinate after a few days, seeing his family and Steve when he knew they weren't really there. When he wasn't being tortured, he was asleep and dreaming of Steve, or awake and stuck in endless despair, telling himself he would never see Steve again.

 _I'm going to die here. Nameless. Alone._ He started crying this time, praying Zola wouldn't hear him. _I was so stupid, thinking I could do this. I'm not a soldier. I shouldn't have left. What about Steve? I'm all he has. And I'm going to die._

Bucky felt buried. The air in the room was thin, and he was freezing. He wished for warmth, any type of warmth to take away some of the pain. His head was in the clouds from the drugs Zola was pumping into him.

 _Stop thinking_ , he told himself. _You'll kill yourself thinking like that._

Bucky tried to think of ways to get warm, but he couldn't even open his eyes to see what was around him. He heard the door open and wondered why Zola was back already. Bucky hoped if Zola was about to test on him again, it would kill him this time. He was tired of living through it. He braced for pain as he heard shuffling and wondered if these were his last moments. Oh, what he would do to see Steve's eyes once last time.

Someone unstrapped Bucky from the table and shook him enough to make him open his eyes. He was expecting Doctor Zola. Instead he saw a familiar face with a sad smile, and he felt warmth for the first time since he left Brooklyn. He saw light for the first time in a long time, right in Steve's blue-green eyes, and suddenly he was back on the ground.

"It's me. It's Steve."

"Steve," Bucky repeated, smiling.

Steve helped Bucky off the table, and put a hand on Bucky's cheek, "I thought you were dead."

"I thought you were smaller," Bucky replied, eyeing Steve up and down. He didn't hesitate to hug Steve. He breathed in deep, finding comfort that Steve somehow still smelled like their house in Brooklyn. He began to cry. "It's been so long, Stevie. God, I feel like I've been in here for _years_ and I haven't seen you in a decade. I missed you so damn much."

"More like a few months and a couple years," Steve said, "but I missed you, too. And don't worry, I finally got your letters." He squeezed Bucky tightly.


	12. A/N

Hey guys!

I just wanted to let you know I'm taking a very small break from this fic. Not because I'm bored of it or I'm struggling, but because of family issues.  
A hard time is coming up for us and I need to spend time with my mom for the next week so I won't be writing or posting on schedule.  
The soonest update would be this weekend, if I get around to writing.

Thank you for understanding! ❤  
-H


	13. Homecoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The journey is twelve days long. Bored, starving, and sleep deprived, Bucky thinks too much on a hunt one day.
> 
>  
> 
> Only two more trigger words to go! Let's hope those chapters are better than this one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not very happy with this chapter, but let me know what you think. I know this one's probably boring. Lots of worried Bucky, as usual lmao.  
> Inspiration for this chapter:  
> Th Kids Aren't Alright by Fall Out Boy  
> Home by Daughtry

_November, 1943_

 

"You came here _alone?_ " Bucky demanded, as they left the base with the other men. "S'just fuckin' stupid, Steve."

Steve turned around, waving a few sergeants on to lead the rest of the soldiers. He looked at Bucky. "Colonel Phillips wouldn't've sent a team with me. He woulda told me I'm just a chorus girl and let you die here. Besides, you'd do the same for me."

"You shouldn't've risked it. You could be court-martial'd for this," Bucky argued.

"S'wrong with that, when I saved over four hundred men to do it?"

"But that's not what it was about when you set out for Austria, Steve!" Bucky stressed. He quieted when he saw a few men looking their way. "You just came for me," he whispered.

"We both know y'had no idea the others were here, at least not this many. And ya didn't even know if I was alive."

"Of course I just came for you," Steve agreed, turning away, "and I'd do it again in a heartbeat, whether the other men were here or not."

\--------

The journey from Austria to the Italian base was long and harsh. Steve, Bucky, and the rescued soldiers traveled for twelve days, but not all of them lived to the last day. 171 hours of traveling and 268 hours total from the moment they left the HYDRA base to when they arrived at camp in Italy. Some starved, some died from infected wounds, and some fell ill.

Steve, Bucky, and a few friends they had made had taken turns hunting while the others slept. "Dum Dum" Dugan would sneak off during the day when they were all traveling, running ahead to catch dinner for the night.

So far, they had walked for twelve hours from Innsbruck, Austria, to Vipiteno, Italy. They made camp outside the city. It took two hours to get food around to everyone, and they slept close to six before moving again.

They arrived near Balzano when they stopped again, after walking fifteen hours. They ate what Jim and Dum Dum had caught the night before, then slept. Steve and Bucky had taken their shift to hunt then.

Steve and Bucky had been on their bellies, watching a deer from over a small hill. Steve had a rifle with a silencer, watching the deer intently. He could only see the buck's head, so he waited for him to come out from behind the trees.

"I needed this," Bucky whispered suddenly. "This time with you. Don't fit here without you. Some of these guys are real assholes. You wouldn't believe the amount of gay jokes, Stevie."

Steve looked up from the scope, "Things'll change one day, Buck."

"How do you know that?" Bucky said, beginning to whisper even quieter.

"Because they have to. Everything evolves. Women can vote, now, and blacks have come a _long_ way since slavery. The rest of us are evolvin' to not be assholes. The same will happen with people like us."

"What if they don't, Steve?"

"Really, Buck? You're worryin' about it right _now?_ "

"I'm sorry," Bucky sighed. "I don't know what's wrong with me. I keep thinkin' too much."

"And talkin' too much. We're supposed to be catching tomorrow's dinner."

Bucky rolled his eyes at Steve, though he knew he was keeping the blonde from concentrating. Steve started speaking again anyway, though very quietly.

"I got something on my mind too, though. I wanna go home, Bucky. I don't regret coming here, at all. I want to fight. But I miss our house. I miss your family. I miss our bed-"

"Don't say that," Bucky panicked. "Not here. You don't know if someone's listenin'."

"We're a mile from where we camped, Buck."

"Doesn't mean someone wouldn't follow us, or set out this way. You know how Dum Dum is. He'd follow us to help us, but we'd never hear him comin'."

Steve knew Bucky was right, and he became silent. Steve eventually shot the buck and they went over the ditch they had been in to collect it and retreat to their spot again.

"Stay here," Steve said. "I'm gonna go a bit further and see if there's another clearing. I'll try to bring somethin' back."

Bucky nodded and stayed in the ditch, keeping his rifle pointed toward the trees ahead. Without Steve there to keep him grounded, he began thinking too much again.

 _He's been there for me so much more than I have for him. I don't deserve Steve._  
_He's worryin' about my family and our friends, missin' them and talkin' 'bout home._ It just made Bucky sadder. _Not that I don't miss 'em, ya know. But Steve's my home. Steve's enough. Why am I not enough for him?_

Of course, he would never tell Steve any of this. Steve had enough to worry about on his own, and Bucky didn't want to burden him with thoughts even he thought were ridiculous.

After about twenty minutes, Steve returned, half-dragging a large buck with him. They began walking back to camp with the bucks, glancing at each other once in a while, but not talking much. Bucky looked over to Steve once, right before they hit camp. He looked at Steve's lips. They were bitten and dry from the weather, but Bucky longed to kiss them. He missed not being scared of other's eyes.

_This shit's getting old._


	14. One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Just one kiss, Stevie. I haven't kissed you in forever."  
> "That's because it's the army, Buck. If someone sees us-"  
> "They won't."  
> \----  
> In which one of them is always stupidly cautious and the other is stupidly indifferent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one trigger word to go! I'm kinda sad though so let's pretend this story isn't ending.  
> Songs for this chapter:  
> Happiness by The Fray  
> Say When by The Fray  
> Shut Up and Dance by Walk the Moon  
> The End of All Things by Panic! at the Disco  
> Far Too Young To Die by Panic! at the Disco  
> Collar Full by Panic! at the Disco  
> They Can't Take That Away From Me by Fred Astaire (+ I have officially named this song the anthem for this fic. I love it for Steve and Bucky, ugh)

_July, 1944_

Bucky awoke in the middle of the night. He had heard something shuffling in his tent, and when it touched his sleeping bag, he popped up from it with a knife in his hand.

"Whoa, whoa, it's me," Steve said. Bucky was surprised Steve had seen the knife in the darkness.

" _Steve?_ " Bucky asked. "I almost cut ya, punk. What are you doin' here? What if you get caught?"

Steve sniffled, looking up at Bucky, "Please? Can I just stay in here for one night?"

Bucky put the knife down and sighed, opening the sleeping bag to Steve.

"What's wrong, Stevie?" Bucky asked after wrapping his arms around the man.

Steve began to shake, crying silently. "I had a bad dream."

"Jesus," Bucky held him tighter, "It was that bad? S'okay, Steve. I'm here now." He kissed the top of Steve's head. "Just can't stay happy, can ya?"

Steve took a moment to wipe his tears before answering, "I don't know if I want to be happy anymore, Buck," he started, continuing before Bucky could interrupt. "It leaves me vulnerable for things like this. Happiness is dangerous."

"When we were little, you told me you liked danger," Bucky recalled. He breathed deep, petting Steve's soft golden hair. "You can't make happiness come or go, Stevie. You can't look for it. You have to just live your life and let it find you. Don't deny yourself somethin' like that." Steve said nothing. He only held on to Bucky, like his life depended on it.  
Steve fell silent, breathing Bucky in. He began to take Bucky's advice. He stopped looking, and just lay with Bucky. Eventually happiness was again a concept for his brain. Bucky held Steve for a long few minutes in silence, pondering whether to ask him about the nightmare. Bucky finally decided, but Steve began to speak before Bucky could ask the question.

"It was 'bout you," Steve said, as if he could read Bucky's mind. "The dream, I mean. We were back home, like the war had never happened. People accepted us and we had a daughter. But one day ya just left. Told me ya didn't love me anymore." Steve started to sob again, grabbing Bucky and pulling him closer.

"Oh, Stevie," Bucky said. He didn't know what else to say let. Shit, he thought. He soothed Steve and spoke again when he was calm.

"Y'know, the night of Helen's wedding, when I was hammered, I told ya I wanted to marry ya. I meant that."

"I know. But things are different now, Buck. I'm different," Steve sniffled.

 _And I doubt you still love me like you did then_ , he thought.

"So am I, Stevie. People change, but..." Bucky sighed. "Many things will always be changing, but I will always love you. That won't change. I'm not going anywhere." Steve didn't reply.

"I can make this better. I can take care of you. Just tell me what you need, Steve."

Steve wouldn't look at him, "You can't fix me, Buck."

"No, I can't," Bucky said, moving Steve's face so he was looking at him, "because you aren't broken."

Steve bit his lip, looking into Bucky's icy blue eyes. "Just be here. Be mine."

"I'm already yours," Bucky promised.

\--------

 _September, 1944_  


Bucky had asked Steve to meet him in a wooded area near base, the night before a particularly dangerous mission. He sat on the ground, fingering his dog tags and waiting for Steve. Part of him told him Steve wouldn't show up, but then he heard rustling in the leaves. He stood and turned, finding Steve with his hands in his pockets.

"Hey, Buck."

"Hey, Stevie," Bucky swallowed, "I uh...I didn't think you would come."

"Why not?" Steve question, tilting his head and walking closer.

Bucky shrugged. "You got more important things to do."

"More important than seeing my best guy?" Steve laughed, "Not a chance. If anyone has responsibilities, it's you, _Sergeant._ "

Bucky rolled his eyes, taking Steve's hand and leading him farther into the woods.

"Why'd you have me come out here, Buck?"

Bucky exhaled, letting go when he thought they were in a secluded enough spot.

"We don't know what's going to happen tomorrow. If worst comes to worst, I wanna spend tonight with you."

"We're too young to die, Buck. You're being dramatic."

"Do you _ever_ fuckin' shut up, Stevie?" Bucky rolled his eyes, grabbing Steve's hand gently. "Dance with me."

Steve shook his head, chuckling. He put one hand on Bucky's waist as Bucky put his hand on Steve's shoulder. Their opposite hands were to the side, clasped as they swayed together. It started off slow, then Bucky started getting hyper, as usual. He pulled Steve this way and that, making Steve laugh at him. He twirled Steve as best as he could, and swung him back out. He pulled Steve in, putting his hand back on his shoulder and grinning at the breathless super-soldier. At least, Steve thought he was grinning. The only light in the woods was from the moon.

Bucky would always be Steve's weakness. Maybe it was destined that way. His heart didn't flutter anymore when Bucky looked at him, but he knew that didn't change their love. It only meant their love was different now. Evolved, from a crush to pure love.

Steve's eyes were Bucky's happiness. He could see every moment of their past in them, every first and last moment. He could see every dance, fight, and date. One of Steve's flaws, however, is that he says what's on his mind. He isn't very good at letting a moment last.

"You still haven't told me," Steve hinted, referring to Bucky's imprisonment. He had promised to tell Steve what happened with Doctor Zola, but he still hadn't.

"Please don't ask me what happened in there. Not right now."

"It's been almost a year, Buck. Are you ever going to talk about it?"

"Of course, Steve," he lied. "I'm just not ready yet."

They continued to dance, slowly but still having fun. Eventually, Bucky leaned in to kiss Steve. Steve put his hand on Bucky's chest, gently pushing him away.

"No, Bucky."

"Just one kiss, Stevie. I haven't kissed you in forever."

"That's because it's the army, Buck. If someone sees us-"

"They won't."

"It's not like how me and Peggy were, Buck. We can't be open."

Bucky stopped dancing, only holding Steve's hands. "I'm not asking for that. We're not in the open. I just want one kiss, before the world catches up to us."

Steve knew if he agreed, it wouldn't just be a peck on the lips. He wouldn't be able to keep it that low if he started kissing Bucky, but he agreed to it anyway, leaning in. Their lips met and Steve's mind became empty of everything but Bucky.

And Bucky was right. It had been forever since the warmth of Bucky's mouth was against his own, making him the happiest man on Earth. They moved together, and Bucky sighed contentedly against Steve. He didn't want to ever stop, because he had promised Steve he just wanted one. When they broke apart, Bucky breathed deep, trying to hold on to the moment forever, but nothing lasts forever, except maybe their love.


	15. Freight Car

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky's last thought as he fell, screaming for Steve, was, "I should have stayed home," but home meant Brooklyn, where he could hold Steve and drift to sleep, and he was far from that home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter, guys!
> 
> Inspirations for this chapter:  
> Fall Away by Twenty One Pilots  
> September by Daughtry  
> They Can't Take That Away From Me by Fred Astaire

_Winter, 1945_  
  


Bucky held on to the rail as tight as he could. Steve crawled out onto the side of the train, reaching out, but Bucky was afraid to let go. He finally decided to reach, but the railing broke.

_"Bucky!"_

He extended his arms to Steve, but it was too late. He was falling.

His last thought as he fell, screaming for Steve, was, _I should have stayed home_ , but home meant Brooklyn. He was far from that home. Bucky knew he shouldn't have gone on the mission, but of course he didn't let Steve go alone. He promised Steve he wouldn't leave him, and now he was falling away for good. It was the end of the line.

It had just felt like yesterday when he had been a child, playing in the rain with his siblings and Steve, and he remembered being a teenager, causing trouble with Steve on the streets of Brooklyn. He had no idea how time had gone by so fast.

Bucky watched the train disappear as he fell, with the speed knocking the breath out of him. He gasped when he hit the snow and ice for the first time, he felt several bones shatter. When something caught his shoulder, he couldn't tell what severed it, but he felt it rip off of his body, watching in horror as his arm tumbled down the ravine in a different direction as he did. He hit more snow a few different times, and finally landed by the half-frozen river. Pain cascaded through him from where his left arm once was. He assumed his ribs and leg were broken, as well.

Bucky was close to passing out when he got the strength to pull something from his pocket: a picture of him and Steve kissing, that Peggy had secretly taken. He loved it, but he knew HYDRA would come for him soon, and they could use it against Steve. He did his best to rip the photo up with one hand and bury the pieces in the snow around him.  
He decided he had to distract himself, or he would go crazy.

 _Maybe Steve and I could get a better house. Something ours, more than mine. By a lake or the sea,_ he thought. _Somewhere we could just be with each other._

He thought about Steve for too long again and began to cry, though his tears seemed to freeze as soon as he wept them. He shivered in the chilly wind, wondering if he had the strength to stand. HYDRA would find him if he didn't move.

Bucky used all the strength in his arm to hold himself up, using his right leg to stand lopsided. He dragged his broken leg and staggered a few feet before falling backwards, his gear pulling him down. He landed on his broken leg, crying out in agony. He brought his knuckle to his mouth, biting quickly, silencing the last half of his scream. He bit enough to draw blood.

He tried again, this time crawling over to the river. He threw in the heaviest of his gear, watching it sink to the bottom and hoping no one would find it. (Not anytime soon, at least.) He stopped and sat in the snow, pulling fabric and bandages out of the backpack he had kept. He wrapped the bloody parts of his leg and his shoulder.

He slowly stood back up, using a small severed branch by the river as a sort of cane. He gasped as he stepped with his left foot, tears falling once again from the pain, but Bucky was determined to make it out of the ravine. He made it close to 30 feet, but when he looked back, he saw his footprints and cursed. He started to step carefully on icy parts of the ground, rather than snowy parts, in an attempt to not leave tracks.

Bucky traveled quiet far on the ice, until he stepped too hard on his broken leg and it collapsed under him. He fell hard, splintering his hand on the branch. He landed on his severed side, yelping. 

After lying there for what seemed to be forever, he began to sob, pounding his fist into the snow. He felt his energy drain dramatically, though he wasn't surprised. He shouldn't have been able to get up at all, but now he had wasted his energy.

_This isn't happening. I'm not done living. There's more to me than this._

Bucky remembered holding Steve in their home in Brooklyn. He remembered his lips and his golden hair. He knew that he would always have memories of Steve. They could never take that away from him, but he was still utterly terrified.

 _There's nothing to be afraid of. Steve will come back for me,_ he thought last before finally passing out, cold and alone in the blinding snow.


	16. A/N: Sequel?

Hey guys!  
I'm working on something and I decided to reread this fic, and doing so gave me some ideas.  
It's been almost a year since I finished this fic, but how would you feel about a sequel? It would take place in present day-ish. It would be about moments in CA: Winter Soldier, Avengers: AOU, and CA: Civil War, and potential moments between Steve and Bucky, starting with Steve trying to slowly remind Bucky of things mentioned in this fic, and ending in the future. It would be set up like this story, with quite some time between some of the events.  
Personally, would you read it?  
Thanks in advance!  
-h


	17. Spin Off

Hey guys! I just wanted to let you know I've started a spin off for this story in place of a sequel. I have an idea but whether or not I'll ever actually get to the sequel is unknown at the moment. I'm really busy with school and work, and I have some health issues that I need to get taken care of. I'd rather take care of myself now to be able to write more later than write now and get sick. I hope you understand.  
With Love, James: http://archiveofourown.org/works/11785107/chapters/26575587


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